


So nah, so weit weg von mir

by Soronya



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Open Ending, Pining, ok who am I kidding this is actually bitterbitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23542804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soronya/pseuds/Soronya
Summary: Paul's day couldn't be worse. Here he was, standing in front of the registry office, about to be Richard's best man. Richard, who he was in love with; Richard, who was going to marry someone else today.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers
Comments: 21
Kudos: 81





	So nah, so weit weg von mir

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the fic of firsts - at least for me!  
> This is the first time I wrote RPF, the first fic I wrote for the Rammstein fandom and the first time writing smut! Yay!  
> Actually, this wasn't supposed to be the first fanfic I wanted to contribute to this fandom, but I dreamt about this and then I had to write it down. I am apologising in advance for this to be quite emotional and depressing. You have been warned.  
> A huge Thank You goes out to my wonderful beta [Milrekki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milrekki) \- not only for proofreading this and cheerleading for me but also for dragging me into this fandom in the first place.  
> Menfinske and Wahnsinn also deserve to be mentioned here, since they helped me a lot with some phrases and choosing the right words - thank you so much for that!  
> The title is a line from Rammstein's "Weit weg" and can roughly be translated to "so close and yet so far away from me".

Paul sighed.

This day was going to suck endlessly and he didn’t even know why he had agreed to be there. It had been a gloriously bad idea, but he hadn’t been able to say no. How could he have? When Richard had asked him to be his best man, there hadn’t been a single reason to decline.

Except, maybe, for the truth. Which was out of the question.

Now he stood in front of the mirror, knotting his tie absentmindedly and wondered if he still could withdraw from the whole event without hurting Richard’s feelings. He could call him and say he’d become sick – headache, fever, whatever he could think of.

But that way, Richard wouldn’t have a best man and also, Paul already had the rings. So it wasn’t really possible to avoid seeing anyone today since he had to give them over, at least. The whole situation was just fucked up.

While this was probably going to be the best day of Richard’s life, this was probably the worst one for Paul. Amazing how one man’s bliss can be another’s downfall.

It was still early in the morning and Paul already dreaded every minute of this day. He just wanted to go back to bed, pull the cover over his face and lay there for the rest of his life. How was he supposed to survive this festiveness and smile all along while on the inside, he wanted to cry of anger and sadness and despair? 

Fuck.

Paul took a deep breath. All he could do was close his eyes and hope for the best, getting everything over with as quickly as possible. Sadly, during those terrible days, even a moment seemed to last an eternity. 

After all, it was still so surreal to him that Richard was getting married today. To be honest, Paul hadn’t expected to ever witness it and he gladly could have lived his life without attending this ceremony as Richard’s best man.

When Richard first announced he was dating Christina, his now soon-to-be wife, Paul had thought they’d break up sooner or later as usual. Richard often dated various women, sometimes lasting only for weeks, sometimes maybe months. But in the end, they always broke up.

Not this time, not with Chrissie. They’ve been together for one and a half years when Richard, hopeless romantic Richard, proposed to her in the corniest, most cliché way; with rose petals and candles and getting down to his knees. 

Paul would have liked to puke when Richard had told him about it and how excited Chrissie had been when she had said  _ yes _ . Instead, he had smiled through it, had congratulated Richard and had proclaimed his support.

The worst part about the whole marriage was Chrissie herself. Paul had tried to hate her, to find a single character trait that was condemnable or just  _ something  _ that’d put her in a bad light. But there was nothing.

Chrissie was not only stunningly beautiful with her hazel eyes, blonde curls and her broad smile, the freckles on her cheeks and her button nose, no, she was also extremely charming and obliging. Her patience and her good faith in everything around her made her seem naive, but she actually had a sharp mind and a quick wit. 

Paul had never stood a chance against her and he even could understand why Richard fell in love with her. Hell, hadn’t Paul been so miserably in love with Richard for the last five years, he might have fallen for her, too.

But now here he was, standing in his living room in front of the mirror and fixing the last details about his appearance. He touched his breast pocket to make sure the box with the wedding rings was still there before taking another deep breath.

A look at his watch told him it was time to leave for the registry office and he closed the jacket of his deep blue suit, before leaving his apartment. He wasn’t ready for what was soon to follow, but he couldn’t prevent it, either.

*

Only fifteen minutes later, he was at the registry office. Because the traffic hadn’t been a bitch for once, he was early now. Great. The sun was shining as if it was making fun of him in particular and it was already a tad too warm for his taste.

Richard and some of his closest friends were already there, trying to make the most of the awkward waiting. When Richard spotted Paul, his face lightened up and he cracked a broad grin.

“Paul!” he exclaimed, walking towards him, his arms spread and ready to hug Paul.

Richard looked stunning. Not that he didn’t, usually. But today, his sight took Paul’s breath. His black hair was freshly dyed and styled in his typically dishevelled way. Paul wanted to run his hands through it until all the hairspray that held the hair in place would be gone and he could feel the softness between his fingers.

Richard’s blue eyes were framed with just a bit of eyeliner, bringing out the beautiful bright colour of his irises even more and Paul asked himself once again how it was possible to be this handsome.

The tuxedo Richard wore was flawless. It was ink black and the vest beneath was a bit brighter but with embroidered dark flowery designs that seemed to be made of velvet. Paul’s fingers itched with the desire to touch it and feel Richard’s broad chest beneath, but luckily, he could restrain himself.

A second later, he found himself in a tight embrace with Richard, his soft cheek pressed against Paul’s own stubble. Paul’s heart started to race immediately and he cursed his bloody feelings for Richard.

Honestly, why did he have to fall for him? Why him out of all people? Why his bandmate, for fuck’s sake? Why the man he has to make music with and who he will see at least twice a week?

“I am so happy you’re here,” Richard said, his mouth too close to Paul’s ear. Too close and still so far away, Paul mused and felt a lump in his throat.

“Of course,” Paul croaked, forcing himself to smile as Richard withdrew. “Where else should I be on your big day?”

Richard grinned. “Thank you, Paul. It means a lot to me. Do you, uh, still have the rings?” He asked, fumbling with the cuffs of his tux. 

“Sure,” Paul confirmed, padding at his breast pocket and wondered how he was able to uphold his facade in such a convincing way. Richard really did not seem to notice how miserable he felt.

“You’re the best!” Richard exclaimed, flashing him a broad smile before wandering off to greet another guest who was just arriving.

Paul watched him leave, his gaze falling down on Richard’s ass and lingered there. Fuck, this man obviously had to be perfect from head to toe. Not only was he handsome, but of course he also had a gorgeous character. They had their differences, for sure, but they were each other’s missing part, they completed each other; they laughed over the same things and could also talk about serious matters for hours.

Fuck, this day was going to be torture and there was nothing Paul could do about it. And the problem was, it wouldn’t get better as soon as this day was over. No, from that point on, he had to live with the knowledge that Richard was married to a wonderful woman and showing off his wedding ring at every occasion. What a wonderful idea.

Paul had the huge urge to simply run away and never come back when he suddenly felt a big hand on his shoulder and turned around. Till was standing behind him, his pierced eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“Must be hard for you,” he said lowly and Paul nodded once. 

Till was the only one who  _ knew _ . Paul hadn’t told him voluntarily and only because Till had asked him about it. Apparently, Paul’s sulking for Richard had been obvious enough for him to notice and of course, Till stuck to his guns until he had his answers. 

Luckily, he’d never let a word loose about it and Paul was very thankful his friend was very discreet about his feelings about Richard.

“You have no idea,” he mumbled, looking down at the floor where he drew abstract patterns with his heel into the gravel. Paul felt so restless and at the same time so tired. Sometimes, he wondered how those feelings weren’t mutually exclusive. 

“If you need me…” Till offered, squeezing his shoulder once with his big paw before dropping it. 

“Thanks, but… I’ll be alright,” Paul answered, well aware of the fact that he wouldn’t be alright. At least not until he’d get over Richard. “You know, I think I am going to the bathroom before everything starts.”

“Okay. See you around,” Till answered with a lopsided smile and Paul walked towards the entrance of the historical building where the office was based in. He pushed open the big doors, thankful for the cool air that greeted him inside. 

The restrooms were marked, so he found his way without getting lost in the big hallways. Paul entered the bathroom and the smell of lemon air freshener engulfed him. He wrinkled his nose and went over to the sink, looking at his reflection in the big mirror.

It was a sad sight. Jesus, how couldn’t Richard tell something was off with him? He looked wasted. His eyes were dreary and dark shadows were visible underneath, which was no wonder, really, considering he hadn’t been able to sleep for the last three nights.

He looked older, he mused, old and tired. And it was just getting worse. His whole life was a mess and he didn’t see how it could become any better in the next months. How was he supposed to go to the band rehearsals when he knew Richard was there, probably talking nonstop about his wife? Or when they would record a new album and would move to a vacation home together? It had been hard until now, but somehow deep inside of Paul there’d always been a spark of hope that maybe, someday, he’d had a chance to get together with Richard.

But now? Now there was no chance left for him. Not even the smallest one. Paul hated himself for his pining and his self-pitying, however, it wasn’t that he hadn’t  _ tried _ to forget about Richard. Fuck, he had tried everything: meeting friends, going on a date, even having casual sex. In the end, nothing had worked and he was still alone and yearning for Richard.

The fact that he was here now, about to be the best man for someone he loved, made his gut wrench and he felt nauseous. He took a deep breath and leaned onto the sink, trying to support his weight because his legs were suddenly wobbly. 

Paul turned on the tap and let the cold water run over his wrists. He gasped, a bit shocked by the temperature, but it was a welcome distraction. He stayed like this for a moment, then splashed water into his face repeatedly, enjoying the prickling feeling it left on his overheated skin.

When he looked into the mirror again, droplets of water were running over his face, some of them even clinging to his hair. Paul closed his eyes, not making the effort of drying his face just yet. If it was up to him, he would’ve stayed like this for the next hours. Just breathing and trying not to think.

He flinched when the door flew open and Richard stormed into the small bathroom, looking somewhat stressed.

“Here you are, Paul! I’ve been looking for you everywhere and–” Richard stopped mid-sentence, realising something about the situation seemed off. He looked around, noticed Paul’s wet face and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly and entered the room, closing the door behind him. “Did anything bad happen I don’t know about?”

Paul needed a moment to regain his composure before he was able to say something. Making sure his voice wouldn’t break, he cleared his throat and looked at Reesh, trying to look confident.

“Yeah. Everything’s alright.”

“It doesn’t look like everything is alright”, Richard inquired and Paul would have loved to strangle him. Didn’t he realise he was making everything worse?

“But it is. Really, Reesh,” Paul said sternly, feeling his sadness turning into anger. Why did Richard think it was necessary to bother him right now? Didn’t he have some other,  _ own _ problems to care about right now?

“Sorry,” Richard countered, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “but I don’t believe you. If everything was okay you wouldn’t hide in the bathroom and look like you had seen a ghost.”

Slowly but surely, Paul honest to god became mad. Who did Richard think he was? How come he could never leave him alone? Not in his mind and now not even in reality when he needed it most?

“Richard,” Paul snapped, the anger finally coming to the surface. “For fuck’s sake, don’t you have somewhere to be? Welcoming your future wife outside? Or some other shit so you don’t have to bother me?”

He felt how his chest was heaving and lowering and he glowered at Richard. A water droplet ran over his face, tickling over his skin, and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his suit jacket in annoyance. 

Richard’s jaw dropped and he just stared, his eyes wide as saucers. The silence between them became uncomfortable pretty quickly, but both of them refused to be the one to say the first word. Paul could see in the change of Richard’s facial expression that he also felt the anger rising inside of him, probably because he just got a raw deal.

However, Paul couldn’t care less at the moment. This man was making his life so fucking hard to endure, taking away his air to breathe and didn’t even realise it. How could he be so  _ blind _ ?

“Yeah, totally seems like nothing is wrong with you,” Richard finally growled. “Well, I  _ could  _ imagine doing something better right now, but you bet I won’t leave before you tell me what your fucking problem is.”

“Why are you such a pain in the ass?” Paul yelled, stepping closer. “If you don’t leave this room, then for sure I will!”

“Oh no, you won’t,” Richard stated and positioned himself in front of the door, crossing his arms. “Paul, I have no idea what your fucking problem is but you better spill it because this is certainly not the time for you to be moody.”

“Moody?” Paul echoed in disbelieve. “ _ Moody _ ? Did you fucker just call me  _ moody _ ? That’s it. Let me out.”

Richard blocked his way when Paul stepped closer to the exit. “No, not before you tell me what’s wrong with you. I am getting married today and you’ve been behaving like a total dipshit for the whole past week without a reason! I’d like to know why before I exchange the rings!”

“You’re just  _ that _ ignorant, aren’t you,” Paul stated, glaring into Richard’s eyes. “You have absolutely no idea, not even the slightest clue and yet you act as if you’re actually doing me a favour here while you’re doing the absolute opposite.”

“I don’t understand–”

“Of course you don’t!” Paul shouted. “Now let me go!”

“Not before you tell me what your problem is!” Richard yelled back, grabbing Paul’s shoulder so he couldn’t pass him.

“Fine! It’s you, Richard!” Paul screamed and gasped for air. His voice was just shy of breaking and he needed a second to make sure he could go on. “You are my fucking problem. You’re marrying Chrissie and I am not able to prevent it.”

“Don’t you like her?” Richard asked in confusion, fishing a cigarette and his lighter out of the breast pocket, but he hesitated before lightening it.

“No, you dimwit. She’s fucking gorgeous and that’s part of the whole issue.”

“Then I don’t get why–”

Paul didn’t let Richard finish the sentence. He didn’t know what else to say and words apparently weren’t of any help, since Richard refused to understand them. He stepped closer to Richard, felt the warmth of his body and buried his hand in his hair. It was rough because of all the hairspray, but Paul didn’t care when he tightened his grip and yanked Richard’s head down.

They were close now, so close that they were breathing the same air. Richard smelled of his usual aftershave and cigarettes and Paul couldn’t imagine a more intoxicating odour. His eyes were wide open and Paul searched for  _ something _ in them, aversion, disgust, maybe even appreciation, but there was nothing but confusion.

Paul only hesitated for another split second before closing his eyes and sealing Richard’s lips with his own. The kiss lasted only for a moment, but it was enough to send exploding fireworks through his whole body. He had waited so long to finally do this and it was even better than expected.

“That’s why,” Paul whispered, his voice hoarse, and leaned back slightly to look Richard into his eyes. They were big in bewilderment, for sure, but there was no repugnance in them. Instead, his pupils were blown and his breath came in short, ragged blows.

Paul pulled Richard towards him again. He followed Paul’s lead without any resistance and only a second later, they were kissing again, their mouths moving against each other. Richard’s lips were soft and warm, a bit ajar in surprise and Paul seized the opportunity to lick over them.

Hotness spread through his guts when he felt Richard’s tongue meeting his, curious and eager, and Paul sucked in a breath of surprise. He licked into Richard’s mouth, his hand still tangled in his hair, tousling it until the hairspray was no longer perceptible. Finally, he was able to feel the soft strands of Richard's hair between his fingers. 

Paul used his other hand to pull Richard closer, placing it on the small of his back and bringing their bodies flush together. A small and almost inaudible gasp escaped Richard’s lips and Paul swallowed it down as he deepened the kiss.

He heard Richard dropping his lighter and probably his cigarette, too. The lighter clattered onto the white floor tiles with a loud noise and skidded beneath the sink, but Paul had better things to do than to pick it up. 

Meanwhile, Richard used his now free hands to lay them onto Paul’s ass in a very possessive manner. Paul couldn’t say he minded when Richard’s hand started rubbing over the fabric of his pants, his thumb finding its way into one belt loop and it got caught there.

Richard tasted of coffee, cigarettes and chewing gum, exactly the way Paul had imagined him to taste like, and yet it was so different in reality. It was a wild combination, for sure, but Paul had always had weird preferences. His tongue met Richard’s, danced around and scraped over sharp teeth before withdrawing again, waiting for him to make the next move. 

He didn’t need to wait for long. Paul moaned as Richard sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and carefully bit into it. The sensation was so good and yet so surreal, Paul had to remind himself this was not a dream, not just another fucking dream, but he was making out with Richard for real. On the day of his wedding and he felt no remorse.

The kiss became deeper and hungrier, both starving for the other one’s taste and touch, but they couldn’t seem to be sated. Soon, kissing was just not enough anymore. Richard pulled Paul’s shirt out of his trousers with a quick movement and his rough fingers roamed over the soft skin on his back. 

Paul grasped at the lapels of Richard’s tuxedo, yanking at them so hard they both stumbled. Richard lost his balance and pushed Paul against the sink to prevent them from falling, not breaking the kiss all the while. Paul gasped in shock as he hit the sink with force and held himself upright only by clinging on Richard’s lapels. 

The fabric protested with an unpleasant sound and Paul decided it was time to get rid of it before anything unfortunate would happen to the tuxedo. He pushed it over Richard’s shoulders and he shrugged it off with one swift motion, so it fell to the floor with a soft rustling.

Paul urged his leg between Richard’s and pushed it against his crotch, feeling the unmistakable sign of arousal against his thigh. Richard let out a choked sound that was swallowed half by Paul’s mouth and he felt fingernails digging into his skin.

Richard broke the kiss all of a sudden and Paul was about to protest when he felt lips and then teeth running over his neck, scraping on the delicate skin. He gasped in surprise as Richard bit into his earlobe, then sucked it into his warm mouth. 

“Fuck,” Paul panted, his head thrown back in pleasure, his hands clenching into the small of Richard’s back so firmly that he was sure they’d leave marks. Meanwhile, Richard took off Paul’s suit jacket and discarded it, then did quick work of his tie, before starting to unbutton his shirt. 

Paul felt a hot breath on his clavicle and hair brushed against his cheek as Richard lost his patience with the buttons and yanked open his shirt violently. Richard’s hands touched Paul’s bare skin only moments later, finding their way to the nape of his neck and pulling him in for another fierce kiss.

A shudder ran down Paul’s spine and he leaned into the kiss, starting to fiddle with Richard’s vest at the same time. The velvet of the embroidery was warm and soft beneath his fingertips, quite the opposite of the cool and hard buttons that kept it close.

He made quick work of them, simply ripping open the vest. One button popped off, clattering to the ground and the vest was soon to follow. Paul broke the kiss to gasp for air and leaned his forehead against Richard’s, breathing heavily as his heart pounded sturdily in his chest. 

The tie came off afterwards unceremoniously, Paul unknotted it and it flattered to the pile of clothes that already lay on the floor. Richard still wore an inconceivably soft silk shirt, the fabric white and so thin Paul could see the skin shining through. He took a moment to run his fingertips over the button facing, before opening the topmost one.

Slowly and very deliberately, he opened the second one, then the third and the fourth. He enjoyed the feeling of the fabric sliding over the button and the view of Richard’s chest that was offered to him. Richard’s breath became more audible with every inch of bare skin that was laid bare and it sounded like music in Paul’s ears.

“Paul,” Richard croaked, his voice rough and needy and Paul’s stomach muscles quirked at that. He knew what Richard was trying to say since he felt exactly the same. This wasn’t fast enough, they should hurry, they wanted more, and yet, everything felt rushed and too surreal for it to be real.

Paul drew Richard’s shirt out of his trousers and pulled it over his head to avoid having to unbutton it. Once it was gone, Richard immediately reclaimed Paul’s mouth with his, licking possessively into it and sucking at his bottom lip. Paul moaned, his hands flying to Richard’s sides, fingernails digging into the warm flesh he felt for the first time under his hands.

His head was dizzy with arousal and lust and his hips automatically started rocking against Richard’s. The skin beneath his fingers was smooth and warm and Paul just never wanted to let go of Richard ever again. He savoured the sensation, closing his eyes and answering the kiss when he felt Richard starting to undo his belt.

An unpleasant flash of guilt crossed Paul’s mind all of a sudden because, shit, what was he doing here? Seducing his bandmate and best friend on the day of his wedding? This was more than just morally objectionable and he was definitely going to rot in hell for this, but, fuck, it always took two to tango. And if this was the only time he’d ever spend with Richard in this way, he’d damn well make it count.

Paul put his hand onto Richard’s thigh, slowly wandering upwards until he reached his crotch, squeezing carefully. He was rewarded with a deep moan of Richard, whose head fell back in pleasure. 

Richard caught Paul’s wrist before he could pull his hand away again, holding it in place, applying more pressure to his dick that way. Paul moaned involuntarily at that bold move and brought his other hand to Richard’s belt, unhooking it. The metal clanked softly and Paul unwound his hand from Richard’s grip to open the fly of his pants.

Richard’s hands flew to Paul’s arms, fingers tightening around his biceps and clawing into the skin so fiercely that it was almost painful. He pushed Paul against the sink so that he was half-sitting on it and had the cold ceramics pressing uncomfortably into his thigh. But he didn’t care since he was busy with fumbling with Richard’s trousers. Paul heard Richard hiss his name when he pushed down the pants a bit, his thumbs entangling almost accidentally in the boxer briefs beneath.

Paul’s own erection twitched in his pants, still held back almost painfully by the fabric, since Richard had only undone the belt, but hadn’t opened the buttons. However, he decided his own desire could wait for now, since it was far more interesting to explore Richard’s flawless body, which was so unknown and exciting and beautiful to him.

He pushed his hands under Richard’s shorts and took hold of his ass, roaming carefully over the skin and soft hair, scraping over it with his nails and making him gasp in surprise. Paul couldn’t suppress the small grin that found its way onto his lips, all while Reesh was still clinging onto him like a drowning man.

The pants that had been clinging loosely on Richard’s hips fell to the ground all of a sudden, the belt clattering softly onto the tiles while the fabric got caught between his ankles, but both of them couldn’t care less. Everything around them seemed to be blurred, unimportant and trivial, nothing but their passion, their desire for each other really mattered.

Paul yelped as Richard bit into his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, then he sucked and licked the maltreated skin, before finding a new spot he could take care of. Slowly, he kissed his way down Paul’s chest until he reached a nipple and sucked it deliberately into his mouth, making him moan. 

His legs fell open automatically, inviting Richard to stand between them, as his fingers dug into Richard’s ass, pulling him in. Richard’s hand found their way back to Paul’s fly, opening the buttons and pushing the pants down as far as he could with the sink in the way. The sound of their breaths was filling the room, sounding too loud in the small tiled room, but to Paul, Richard’s noises couldn’t be loud enough.

Richard pressed himself against Paul in the next moment, bringing their crotches together and both of them groaned in unison. Fuck, this felt too good, too exciting, too sublime to be real, but this wasn’t a dream, this was the bloody reality.

They moved against each other, both touch-starved and craving for friction, to finally get to the point this whole moment was inevitably leading them to. Paul met Richard’s thrusts, rutting against him desperately. It was almost blissful to feel Richard’s dick against his own, although there were still two thin layers of fabric between them.

Paul let his hands roam over Richard’s back, his sides and then over his torso, taking time to feel the muscles move under his fingers before scraping over a nipple with his nail. He smiled as Richard gasped softly and did it again, before leaning forward and kissing it. Richard tasted a bit salty since a soft sheen of sweat was covering his heated skin despite the cool air in the room.

He took his time to explore Richard’s body with his mouth, mapping everything, so he could remember every detail later on. Richard put his hand onto Paul’s nape, leading him the way.

When he sat up again, Richard immediately captured his mouth with his lips, licking into it as if there was no tomorrow. Paul answered the kiss with the same passion and slowly he started to run out of patience. His own dick started to ache uncomfortably in his boxer briefs and he was craving for some real touches.

Fuck it, Paul thought, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of Richard’s underwear and pushed it down without another second of hesitation. Paul closed his hand around Richard’s warm and pulsing erection. It felt strange and yet familiar to touch another dick than his own, but Richard’s groan distracted him from his thoughts very efficiently. 

Richard threw his head back, his nails leaving red marks on Paul’s back as they scraped over it. Paul shuddered and began to move his hand up and down. Slowly, carefully, without too much pressure. Richard moaned loudly, not being able to hold back, so Paul repeated the motion and was rewarded with a similar sound. Getting bolder, Paul stroked with his thumb over the head, smearing the bead of pre-come over the slit.

“Fuck, Paul,” Richard gasped, thrusting into his fist to get more friction and Paul followed along, giving him what he’d asked for wordlessly.

Richard managed to pull Paul’s underwear down, revealing his erection and taking it into his hand without further preamble. Paul gasped in surprise, not having expected Richard to be this keen. They started stroking each other, finding a rhythm that worked for both of them, following it in a strange flow of an unknown melody that seemed oddly familiar.

Paul rested his forehead against Richard’s, who gladly accepted the support. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment and the sight was overwhelming. Richard’s blue eyes were glossy, his pupils blown wide, and when Paul moved his hand again, his lids fluttered shut as a soft moan escaped his lips.

The tension in Paul’s gut became stronger, almost unbearable and he felt himself getting closer to the edge. It was the gentle rolling of Richard’s thumb that almost brought him through and he whimpered.

“Reesh,” Paul whined, almost not recognising his own voice. He sped up his own pace, his hand moving over Richard’s shaft until he had him panting and gasping and writhing. Paul saw Richard biting into his lower lip, trying to stifle a moan before his own eyes fell shut in pleasure because of the thumb pressing against the head of his dick.

The desire that coiled in his stomach reached the tipping point and Paul knew he was lost only moments before the climax blistered through his body, sending shivers over his whole body and making him cry out. He came with Richard’s name on his lips, the orgasm washing over him left him breathlessly and blissfully behind.

Only mere moments later, Paul felt hot come spluttering over his hand, followed by a suppressed moan that sounded like a curse or a plea, and Richard collapsed against him, his hands searching for support on his thighs.

Their foreheads still clung together as they panted and gasped for air, their hearts racing in their chest before they slowly, very slowly came back to senses. Paul started to shiver as his sweat-covered skin began to cool and he got to realise what day it was, where they were and what they just had done.

The come stuck on their hands and Paul’s stomach started to dry, an unpleasant feeling, and he reached for a paper towel to clean himself, handing one to Richard, too.

Richard looked at it as if it was alien at first, then his brain seemed to process and he took it from Paul’s hand automatically. Paul could only guess what kind of mess must have been inside of Richard’s mind, probably one a lot of worse than in his own. He tried to push those thoughts away, knowing they wouldn't help him right now, but his guilty conscience immediately piped up.

He should have acted more responsible, not like a needy, horny teenager and instead more like an actual adult. With what he had done, what he had started, he hadn't only destroyed his, but also Richard’s future life to an extent he couldn't even grasp right now. What had he been thinking?

Right, he  _ hadn’t _ been thinking.

Richard pushed past him and turned on the tap, carefully avoiding eye contact. Paul mused whether he should say something, however, he couldn't think of anything suitable by no stretch of the imagination, so he kept still.

They both cleaned themselves in silence with the paper towels, water and soap until nothing of the mess they had made remained on their bodies. Paul watched as Richard got dressed, trying to put everything neatly back into place, and yet he still looked like he just had been fucked. His hair was a mess and the formerly ironed tuxedo was full of wrinkles, giving it a neglected look.

Meanwhile, Paul leaned against the sink, frozen in place, his hands gripping the cold porcelain with such a force that his knuckles whitened. Everything about this situation was so utterly  _ wrong _ .

Richard tried to adjust his hair but quickly realised it was useless, so he just sighed and ran a hand over his face, before facing the door.

“Richard,” Paul said weakly and Richard turned around again, looking him straight in the eyes. Paul couldn't think of any words that could express how he felt, how he could make this situation better or how he could get to know why Richard had kissed him back.

They stared at each other, eyes full of emotions, ranging from satisfaction to shock to regret, until Richard looked down, averting Paul’s gaze. Paul noticed Richard shaking his head subtly while pressing his lips together before he headed out of the door. It fell shut with a loud bang and Paul flinched at the sound, suddenly all alone in the cold room.

Paul clenched his jaw so hard it started to ache, resisting the urge to scream and to demolish anything he could get his hands onto. He didn’t know how long he stood there, leaned against the sink, the remorse becoming so strong that his stomach twisted. Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on his breath and counted to ten, hoping for his nausea to vanish. It only helped a little but it was better than nothing.

Paul got dressed, not caring about whether he looked decent or not. He didn’t plan to face anyone else today and hoped he could steal away unnoticed. If he wasn’t completely wrong, there was a rear exit he could take so he’d be able to avoid everyone.

Finally, Paul picked up his suit jacket and absentmindedly put it back on. His mind was still occupied with processing what just had happened, that it really happened and, fuck, that he’d really done it. Guilt and shame washed over him, but also the desire to do it again, somewhere private with a bed. 

Sadly, he knew it would never happen. Everything was uncertain now. Would Richard still marry Chrissie? Could the band persist under these circumstances? Was there the possibility of Richard and Paul ever becoming friends again?

Too many questions. 

Paul sighed. He had no answer for a single one of them. 

Somehow, he had managed to fuck up the whole situation even more than it had already been. Congratulations, you played yourself, he thought wearily.

He straightened himself and was just about to open the door when he spotted the small black velvet box that lay on the floor. It must have fallen out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket and Paul didn’t need to look twice to know what it was.

Richard’s and Chrissie’s wedding rings.

The box seemed to stare back at Paul, the black colour standing out against the white tiles. Unsure of what he should do with it, Paul bowed down and picked it up, turning it around between his hands before opening it.

It snapped open, revealing two plain golden rings, the small one glossy and the bigger one mat. Paul took the bigger one out of the box, twisting it between his fingers. He had been supposed to turn the rings over to the bride and groom, wishing them nothing but the best for their future life as married partners from now on.

Paul sighed and shook his head in resignation. All those scenarios in his head didn’t help, all the what-ifs and should-haves were useless. He put the ring back into the box, setting it beside the glossy one and threw one last glance at them. Then, he closed the box and placed it on the sink. Somebody would find it there, for sure.

He smoothed his suit jacket out, took a deep breath and left the restroom, hoping he’d never had to come back to this place in his entire life. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!  
> And everyone who thinks: "Wait, Soronya, you can't end this here, you can't let the boys suffer like this" - you're absolutely right. This is why my Beta (and maybe I as a co-author) is/are going to write a sequel for this!


End file.
